


Miss Sterling & The Billionaire

by nordicdreamsndutchthings



Series: What Goes Around, Comes Around [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Drama & Romance, F/M, Internet, Love/Hate, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 17:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13322745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nordicdreamsndutchthings/pseuds/nordicdreamsndutchthings
Summary: Iona doesn't understand many things. Bruce Wayne being Batman is one of them. But what she does understand is that her termination from Wayne Enterprises was uncalled for. And Bruce Wayne's got to pay for that one.





	1. Unemployed

The week following Misha and Jack's hasty departure was a strange one. For one thing, the city had become suddenly less crowded.

In her eyes anyway.

But it was true to a certain extent. Since the last of the mob had been caught by the police, the city did seem a lot smaller. It may have had a lot to do with the fact that many businesses had closed due to their involvement with the mob.

Analysts were screaming recession in Gotham- not that any of that mattered to Iona anyway; her job- as a computer science major with crazy hacking skills- was basically recession free.

_Or so,_  she thought as she entered Wayne Enterprises anyway.

Surprisingly enough, the security guards stopped her.

Iona frowned. "Err, Rom? I work here," she said to the security guard who blocked her.

"Sorry," he replied showing no facial expression (quite the contrary from when she shared her lunch with him every day, she thought), "You don't work here anymore."

Iona's frown only got deeper.  _"What?"_

"Yeah, you heard me kid," he said, "You don't work here anymore. They've probably already mailed your termination letter."

But that did not do it for Iona. "But why am I fired?" she asked him. Rom shrugged. "Dunno." Then leaning forward, he said, "Listen, it'd do you good to leave kid. Mr. Wayne is murderous this morning. Don't want a law suit on your hands- not with the way the economy's going."

That made her mouth drop open.  _"Bruce fired me?"_  she asked.

"It's Mr. Wayne to you," Rom corrected her.

"What? That doesn't make sense," she exclaimed, "Why would h-"

Fortunately for her, Bruce Wayne decided to walk through the front door at that moment.

"Morning Mr. Wayne," Rom greeted him. Bruce barely looked at him as he walked on. Iona found that gesture to be extremely rude even though Bruce was technically on call with someone on his Bluetooth ( ** _A/N:_** _it's still roughly 2009/ late 2010 in the fiction universe so yes, Bluetooth devices are still a thing- an inconvient thing, but a thing nonetheless that rich people use for their businessy shit_ ) but still-  _whatever happened to good manners?_

"Bruce," she called after him. He ignored her and carried on walking until he reached the end of the side walk and proceeded to wait for his car.

Iona walked after him. "Bruce," she repeated, standing right next to him. "Why'd you fire me?"

Bruce- to his credit- said nothing and continued to have a conversation with whoever it was on the other line. Iona looked at the Bluetooth device before realizing that it wasn't connected to his mobile phone.

_The little shit…_

"Your phone is disconnected," she stated as a matter of factly, "I know you're not talking to anyone."

That seemed to do it since Bruce flinched for a moment before sighing and  _finally_  turning to her.

"Iona," he began in a voice that was characteristically  _not_ \- Bruce in nature, "I think it's time that we all start a new chapter in our lives. Yours included."

"So you  _fired_  me?" she argued.

"I haven't fired you," he went on, looking everywhere but her and that really annoyed her because Bruce Wayne suddenly went from the coolest boss in the world to a total and complete ass hole. "I've released you from duty. There's a difference."

Iona had taken up Economics, Business Law and Finance at university for three semesters in a row. In fact, it was because of Misha- whom she had met in these classes- that she had a minor in Finance and therefore, knew exactly what such terminologies meant and it irritated the living  _shit_  out of her that Bruce was throwing fancy terms around hoping that she wouldn't understand them.

"You're firing me _with pay?"_  she demanded. "Dude, I  _like_  working here. I don't g-"

"I'm afraid that's not your call," he interrupted her. His car rolled over. As usual, Alfred was in the driver's seat.

"Morning Miss Sterling," he greeted her.

"Hey Alf," she responded monotonously.

For some reason that made Bruce elaborate on his sentence. "It's not that you're not a good fit at Wayne Enterprises," he informed her, "it's just- I feel that you should explore some other options to cash in on your talent."

Iona took one look at him and then Alfred before turning back to him again.

"It's because of Misha, isn't it?" she asked.

Alfred started to laugh at that but immediately stopped.

"No, it's not," Bruce said, after a moment's hesitation.

"It is," she concluded, "you're firing me because I'm Misha's friend. You can't stand me because I remind you of her."

"No, don't take it that way."

"But I am, because that's what you're doing. You know, you're probably  ** _the_  **most pretentious ass hole I've ever met," she informed him.

He looked sideways sheepishly and something- without necessary evidence- told her that he heard that one often.

"No, really," she continued, "you're firing me because you're in love with my best friend and that's disgusting since she's married and has never thought of you as anything but a friend. And for some reason you think it's justifiable for firing me because you can't get over her."

When he didn't say anything, she concluded, "Well, have a good life."

And with that, she walked off.

She was still within earshot when she heard Alf say, "Well, that went well, didn't it Master Wayne?"

Iona grinned. At least someone in Gotham was still on her side.


	2. Decision

_"So he fired you?"_

"Yes," Iona responded curtly as she rummaged through her fridge with one hand and clutched her phone with the other. "And it's all  **your**  fault!"

Misha sighed from the other end. _"How is it my fault, Iona?"_

"Because he wants to forget everything and anyone who had any connection to you!"

_"What?! That's just silly!"_  she replied.  _"You're reading too much into it!"_

_"Who's reading too much into what?"_  Iona heard Jack's voice in the background.

_"Iona,"_  Misha told him,  _"she thinks Bruce fired her because he likes me!"_

_"Well duh,"_  Jack responded and Iona laughed.

_"Not you too!"_  Misha groaned.  _"Hang on a sec,"_  she told Iona who shook her head as if she was there. As she proceeded to scavenge her dinner, she listened to Misha and Jack bicker back and forth about the possibility of Bruce Wayne having "a thing"- as Jack called it- for Misha. Iona had to hand it to him, Jack was a pretty observant guy. By the end of their little argument, two things happened:

(A) Misha had accepted that Bruce Wayne may have a little thing for her, and

(B) Iona had decided that yesterday's lasagne was the right dinner choice.

_"I can't believe I didn't notice before!"_  she exclaimed as Iona balanced the lasagne plate, a can of Coke, a bag of chips and the box of cookies she'd bought a few hours ago and made her way into the living room.

"Well, you're quite dense to be honest," Iona shrugged, placing her meal on the coffee table and turning the telly on. She put on the entertainment channel and took a sip from her drink.

_"Whatever Iona."_

Iona rolled her eyes, opening her bag of chips. And yes, she was treating herself. She  _deserved_ that after the way Bruce Wayne had treated her.

_"So, are you looking for a job?"_  Misha asked her curiously.

"I am," Iona said. "I've got a few places lined up. It's not even about the job to be honest. Mine's recession proof. It's the principle of things. You don't fire people simply because they know some stuff about you."

"Well, I could talk to Bruce, you know, if you want."

Even though it was meant as a consolidation, Iona couldn't help but feel a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn't want Misha to do anything for her. Lucky for her, Jack came to the rescue.

_"NO!"_  she heard him shout in the background.  _"Are you crazy? She's sad because he's an ass hole. And you're mistaken if I'm going let you talk to Bruce after this stint of his."_

_"What? Since when do you decide who I get to talk to?"_  Misha countered.

"Eh, leave him alone Mish," Iona said, "he's better at making me feel better than you are."

_"HA! Somebody appreciates me,"_  Jack spoke from close by. Huh, she was on speaker then.

"What're you guys doing?" she asked as _ **Entertainment Weekly**  _covered a star studded charity event. It looked like a mini Oscars to Iona what with the red carpet, the coordinated dresses and suits (apparently the event had a theme:  _Tomorrow Now_. Whatever that meant) and the insane publicity. She briefly wondered if anyone had actually shown up for charity; by the looks of it, everyone was far more interested in how good they looked. Or who got the most pap time- as seemed the case with Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston. But then it was probably the paps going crazy over the two of them being there, Iona reckoned. Even though it was late 2009 and four years since the big break up, Angelina Jolie and Jennfier Aniston's connection to Brad Pitt still managed to thrill the media and the public. It didn't even make sense to her considering how everything- her opinion- was basically Brad's fault for not handling the situation right. People fell in and out of love all over the world and they did end their marriages and moved on. Why was this any different? She loved Jennifer Aniston in  ** _Friends_  **and Angelina Jolie was one of her favourite actresses. How could she choose a side?

Pitting one woman against the other, she thought slowly as the analogy delved deeper into her mind and she began comparing her situation. She  _was_  bitter about what Bruce did but it sure as hell wasn't her fault that he liked Misha. Heck, until recently, he didn't even give any such indication! So yes, this was Bruce Wayne being an ass hole. Besides, Misha was married. He should've known better. He flirted with Iona all the time when they'd meet up. It did not even seem as though he was into Misha the least.  _Or maybe he was cautious in front of Jack?_

Iona didn't know. But she didn't like Bruce Wayne much.

He was rather self-righteous, arrogant and an utter and complete  **prat**!

She hated him and his issues. He really didn't need to drag  _her_  into his problems.  _That was highly unprofessional!_

And just then, as she sat spewing over the injustices done to her, the subject of her very thoughts stepped onto the red carpet. Bruce Wayne didn't exactly go with the theme of the event but the press went wild anyway. He was accompanied by two voluptuous women whom the presenter said were _"exotic divas who must have Hispanic ancestry because damn, they were fine."_ Iona was highly offended by that. She was half (and considered herself full Hispanic because she'd never really known her dad since he left like, twelve days after she was born) Hispanic and there was nothing remotely Hispanic about them. They spoke with a British accent for Pete's sake!

Nonetheless, the two women didn't speak much. Bruce spoke at length about charity (something which she knew he was serious about) but when the interviewer talked about his "conquests"-  _seriously, which era were they in?_ \- he caved in and talked about how easy it was chat up girls these days.

Iona felt really cheap at that one. Even though Misha had explained to her that the whole playboy thing was just a public persona, she couldn't help it. It looked real-  _really real_. He would never admit it but he  _liked_  it. She could tell from the look in his eyes. He was enjoying himself and it boiled her blood. To think she'd actually  _flirted_  with him. _The horror!_  What would her nana say?

She had let a self- assured asshole use his authority and privilege to walk all over her because of issues he alone should have dealt with in private. What did that make her?

Was she really going to let him get away with that?

And what about the countless women he'd gone through without a moment's thought?

He needed to be taught a lesson. Oh yes, he did.

"Say Jack," she spoke into her phone as an idea formed in her mind, "remember the time you and I discussed the possibility of making a website..."


	3. Under Notice

It took years for websites to gain the million milestone- only big companies with specialized marketing schemes managed to pull through and hit a million visitors in less than twelve months. Big money was spent, massive risk was taken- it was  _literally_  very hard stuff.

Or so, Iona had initially thought.

After speaking to Jack about it (who agreed to help her run this  _shit storm_ \- as he called it), Iona set up a website called ihatebrucewayne. It was meant to mock all those websites (and news agencies) that supported and even encouraged Bruce Wayne's playboy antics and to underline the hypocrisy on it. While Misha wasn't exactly on board the idea, both Iona and Jack promised to not personally insult the man- just point out his flaws and ridicule the press for letting him get away with his public image.

 _"In other words, you'll direct hate towards the image he's got,"_  Jack told her,  _"not him personally. But he does behave like his image with most people- yourself included- so we're just reassuring Misha at this point."_

Iona agreed. "You're right. I don't hate him. I'm just sick of his image. Besides, it's not like anyone's gonna be reading this shit. It's just a frustration releasing platform."

It was not that.

Within a week of her launching the website, she had garnered around fifteen thousand visitors. Most of them were pretty wary of the elite Bruce belonged to but soon, there were people who genuinely disliked the man for well, existing. They found his "play boy ways" as the press dubbed it, to be disgusting and repulsive. Misha was alarmed by the comments underneath most of Iona's posts but Iona didn't really care.

"They just needed an outlet," she told Misha, "and they've got one."

 _"I don't understand why you had to do this,"_  Misha said,  _"you could have just sued for misdemeanour."_

Iona had to admit. She probably  _should_  have done that but a court case was severe; this wasn't. _Right?_

Still, her audience continued to grow.

It grew so much that advertisers started contacting Iona. Even though she had started a new job by then, Iona was more than happy to take some of the ad revenue that she earned. In fact, she was able to get a very nice place near work because of it.

The website soon branched out to other members of the Gotham elite though the focus was primarily still on Bruce. One day while Iona was busy editing an article on May Farrow, she got a call from Alfred.

"I see what you're doing," he said after greeting her. Iona froze.

"What?" she asked him pretending (and failing miserably) to not know what he was saying.

"The website," he went on, "the one you made about Master Wayne."

Iona remained silent and Alfred continued, "Frankly you've done a good job with it. Master Wayne has been terrible these past few months and this website is spot on. Tell me, is anyone helping you?"

"Wait, you're  _congratulating_  me?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I?"

"I- I thought you're calling me because Bruce told you or something."

"Master Wayne doesn't know about it," Alfred assured her. "I was just curious. I won't tell. Lucius and I both agree that this will do him good. Besides, it's a good distraction from that ridiculous fuss about him being Batman."

"Someone thinks he's Batman?"

"Yes, and they've guessed it from the colour of his tie- ridiculous!"

Iona giggled and asked him the name of the conspiracy theory website that came up with it. He hung up after giving it to her but not before wishing her good luck, something which Lucius Fox had wanted to wish her as well.

Iona got back to her article not sure how to feel about it. Alfred was the last person she expected to side with her. Maybe Bruce really was being a bitch and it wasn't just her. That made her feel much better and she abandoned her piece on May Farrow and started a new one on Bruce.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It had been a bad day for Bruce. One Diana Prince had once again out bet him on a antique- the Jewel of God, a gold choker that housed a twenty one carat blazing red diamond (yes, a  _red_ diamond. Not ruby.) from the Gotham Archives this time and he was feeling extremely annoyed by this recent development. Last week she'd out bet him on Troy's Juliet- a seventh century tiara made of silver with a beautiful set of purple diamonds embedded in it. While Bruce himself was not interested in jewellery, these artefacts held precious stones that were not from Earth. In fact, that they were thought to have been brought to Earth by aliens some eight hundred years ago.

Bruce had wanted to investigate their properties and possibly learn of their owners but- he couldn't do that now, could he?

He wondered if he ought to track Miss Prince down and try to woo her to sell them to him.

But then, none of his tactics seemed to work on her anyway.

Bruce groaned internally. Of all the women he could come across, it had to be her who bought the two pieces of jewellery that interested him so greatly. It was as though the universe itself was playing a joke on him.

And he didn't like it. Not. One. Bit.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the worst of it. He was currently in the board room at Wayne Enterprises where they would be having a meeting in a few minutes. As of now, it was only him and Lucius in the room but soon it would filled with- Bruce shuddered- board members.

Bruce chose to ignore the inevitable for the moment and turned to Lucius who seemed to be very engrossed with something on his tablet.

"What's that Lucius?" he asked him.

Lucius looked up from the tablet and said, "Nothing. Just this very interesting blog."

"I didn't know that you read blogs," he stated.

"I don't," Lucius answered, "this one's different."

"Really? How come?"

"Let's just say that someone's made a website about you," he responded, his face breaking into one of amusement.

"Huh."

"Yes, and they're very critical of your behaviour as of lately."

"Is that a good thing?" Bruce wasn't sure how to react to that.

"On the contrary, it's quite concerning considering how you are the face of this company," Lucius informed him, "In fact, I'd say that the website is the reason we're having this meeting to begin with."

Bruce frowned. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Is it one of those paparazzi websites?"

"No, it seems to be dedicated to you."

"Hmmm... what's it called?"

"Ihatebrucewaynedotcom."

Bruce did a double take at that.  _"What?"_

He'd never come across a hate website before.


	4. Stalker

He never got hate.

**_Ever._ **

It just never happened.

And it wasn't because he was such an angel either. People liked his behaviour. That's what made the playboy image so great. People  _liked_  it. But now- it seemed as though everything he knew was wrong. As Bruce went through the website, he saw that a lot of people were disgusted by his ways. Some labelled him misogynistic, others called him a dick, a prat, an ass hole and more for his behaviour.

Bruce was confused. He thought that people liked it. His PR team had assured him time and again that the public lived vicariously through him.  _So then what was this...?_

Bruce didn't know.

Alfred, on the other hand, did. "I think you've gone a notch bit too far Master Wayne," he said to him.

Bruce sighed.

"What does that even mean?" he asked him.

"It means that you need to tone it down."

"Tone what down?"

"The image. Be genuine. People are beginning to see through it."

" _I am_  being genuine."

"Yes,  _completely_ ," Alfred quipped and Bruce knew that the matter was serious.

The very next day, he called his entire PR team who seemed to be completely unaware of the site itself.

"There are plenty of hate websites on the internet," said Matthew Winter, his publicist. "We can't track all of them."

"I'm not asking you to," Bruce said, "but you do need to know that it's causing my approval ratings to go low."

"What?"

"Yes, this website has an approval rating chart and I've got the lowest ratings," Bruce told him, showing him the number.

"Wow, that  _is_  low," the man couldn't help but comment and Bruce glared him. He'd never seen a more incompetent lot.

"I want you and your team to work on my ratings," he explained to him, "to boast my public image. I don't know what's wrong."

"Hmmm... it's never happened before," the man said, "we've never had any trouble with you. People love you. Why's there so much hate then?"

Bruce looked heavenwards before taking a deep breath. He could feel his temper flaring but he had to keep it together. There was no point in lashing out on his PR team- the very guys he was supposed to be on his best behaviour with. Granted, the lot proved to be incompetent but that wasn't the point. The point was that he needed to boast his public image as soon as possible.

He couldn't have more hate sites about him sprouting across the internet. It just wouldn't do.

So he asked- no,  _ordered_  his team to get on it while he himself tracked the owner the website.

Which is what he was doing at the moment.

"Alfred," he called his butler.

Alfred appeared a few moments later.

"Can you get me information on the web histories of the inhabitants of these three buildings?" he asked him.

Alfred looked at the paper he handed to him and declared, "One of these buildings is a coffee shop. This should be simple enough. However the other two private properties, I don't think I'll be able to-"

"By any means please," Bruce insisted and Alfred nodded.

"Okay then but why do you need it?"

"I need to track the owner of the website," he informed him, "for legal action. I've already got two interns- Lesley and Kyle- on it but they haven't been able to find much. Just the location of the majority of the posts. Whoever's doing this is smart. All of these locations are nowhere close to residential buildings."

"Ah, and how do you expect me to find the web histories if the interns at Wayne Enterprises can't?" Alfred asked him.

"Well, I know you're resourceful," Bruce said to him and he chuckled.

"That I am."

Bruce offered him a smile before turning back to his work and groaning. He couldn't do it. He needed someone better- someone more experienced- someone with better understanding and street smarts to help him track the owner. He needed someone like  _Iona_.

Bruce shrugged.

No, he didn't need her.

He'd fired her.

He couldn't call her.

No, he couldn't.

His pride wouldn't let him.

He looked around to find Alfred still standing close by and sighed before asking, "I need a hacker."

"I know o-"

"Who is not Iona," he cut him, "I need someone who will deal with this  _professionally_. I don't want any employees with a past relationship with me."

Alfred was positively smirking as he nodded and finally left the room.

Bruce groaned turning back to his work.

He didn't like this. Not. One. Bit.

The owner had to be a member of the paps, he thought to himself as he noticed the events they reported, they even commented on photo ops and appearances. _Hmmm..._

This might make a good court case.

Bruce didn't want it to be a court case. That would make him look like an absolute ass hole. Maybe he'd talk to the man in private. Maybe he'd settle out of court. He didn't know.

He just found this entire ordeal to be irritating.

This shouldn't have happened. He already had enough on his plate.


	5. A Little History Lesson

It was raining in Gotham.

 _Again_.

While normally she loved the rain, today's rain went unnoticed by Iona as she quickly posted yet another article about Bruce Wayne as she sat in the tube, making her way towards a job interview. She hadn't originally planned to switch jobs so quickly after starting at one but her position was still temporary and this was the biggest social media website in the country after Facebook. Lookinglass was an up and coming social media and computer company with an incredible growth rate that had been founded by twins, Otto and Mary Goodwin, who had  _created_  their  _own_  language called Twinspeak. Their products was giving Apple a run for its money and Iona would be crazy to turn down a job offer from there.

So here she was, Wednesday morning, heading towards Lookinglass offices in Gotham- around an hour away from her house- in pouring rain.

Traffic was slow and the subway was crowded. Not wanting to get late since the subway was  _hilariously_  unreliable, Iona made her way through the bus stop waiting for the M-14 bus. Which was also late. Not that Iona hadn't anticipated this. She'd kept a twenty minute window to make sure she was five minutes early.

Soon enough the bus came by and she hopped in, taking the nearest window seat and pulling out her phone to check her blog for updates. Someone had commented a very large, thesis-like piece on Delia Adam's association with the Kardashian- Jenner clan and most of her audience was having a field day with that. Iona read through the comments, smiling occasionally at the funny ones. Her audience was genuine. She needn't worry about trolls yet. Jack was answering some of the comments, she could see his tasteless- according to Misha- user name, Joker actively participating in the conversation.

She wondered why he was up so early before her conversation with Misha from a week ago came to her mind. Jack had started school again. He was studying Creative Writing with Literature at Emerson College which was a few minutes away from their house. They'd hired a nanny for Baby Charlene (for some reason Iona kept calling her that and not Char like everyone else did). Charlene was a weird name to Iona who'd never heard it before but it was Misha's mom's name so it had to be a big deal. Apparently Jack's mother's name was Dana which became her second name.

_Charlene Dana Napier._

Iona didn't know what they were thinking when they named her. But then it sounded proper. Misha's middle name was Imaanat which meant prized possession in Arabic or something. Compared to that, Charlene Dana seemed fine. Everyone was going to call her Char anyway.

Iona didn't know why but it sounded pure justice to her. Misha's mom was also called Char; she wondered how Misha felt. She'd always felt bitter towards her parents for reasons she'd never explained. Did it make her feel happy? Did she feel proud?

Iona wished she was more open. But she wasn't and she could respect that. Iona too didn't tell her a lot of things about her life. Like how her father was still alive. A lot of people assumed that her father was dead- what with Iona's upbringing and all but it wasn't true. Her dad was alive and well in Korea and Iona refused to see him because he,  _well_ , left her mother. Her mother had been duped into coming to America with him. He'd met Danielle, her mom, on holiday and they'd kicked it off. By the time Iona came along, they'd moved to America- her dad had promised that it was for a better future when in reality he'd done it so Iona- born on American soil- would become a citizen, enabling him and her mother to get a green card as well. When that had happened, Anthony Sterling had left them; his three year old daughter and wife who couldn't speak a proper sentence in English in Gotham to study History at some Ivy League. Her dad was a selfish man and Iona hated having to have his name Sterling. She was Hispanic and proud but the name cut her short. She was biologically only half Hispanic. Her dad was a European. Why he'd done what he did was beyond her but Iona didn't care. She never wanted to see him ever.

Which is why when he showed up a month before she was due to leave for Harvard saying that he was so proud of her to attend his alma mater, Iona had been quick to withdraw and enroll at GSU- the local university. Her father was horrified, her mother was slightly disappointed but Iona had explained that she'd never ever want to follow her father's footsteps and she'd understood. Her father hadn't and they hadn't spoken since. Iona didn't want to speak to him. She hated him for the life she'd had because of his selfishness.

She also knew that she'd never name her kid Anthony. Maybe Misha's mom had a case like Iona's? She didn't know but Iona decided to talk to her the next time she saw Misha.

 _Which I hope is soon,_  she reckoned as she got off the bus and into the Lookinglass office.

* * *

"So did you say yes?" Adam from work asked her as they made their way into the extremely fashionable ( _and probably expensive,_  she thought)  _Martinez's Bistro._

Iona nodded as they were quickly seated. "Yea," she said, making herself comfortable in her seat. Her dress was beautiful- a backless black number which she'd picked out at this nice store that Misha had apparently gotten all her formal wear from when she worked and lived in Gotham- but it wasn't something that she'd normally wear. It was too sexy for her. But she wanted to look sexy tonight. Maybe she wouldn't be happy about this purchase tomorrow or in the many weeks to come because Iona was frugal like that but come on- this was  _Andy_ _Rosenberg_  and he's been (heck, he still was. His television news show was one of the most watched shows in Gotham and women swooned over him) the hottest thing at GSU and yes, she was _totally_  objectifying him because  _that ass_  and-

She calmed herself. She was  _not_  going to ruin this date. This was her first date in a very long time, which she was looking forward to and nothing-  ** _absolutely nothing_** \- was going to ruin it.

"I told her I'd think about it," she clarified, "I'm desperate but I'm not  _that_  desperate."

Andy grinned and Iona felt her insides melt. God, he was so hot! She felt like a college freshman again.  _Oh why, oh why had she wasted her time with stupid Carlisle?! **WHY?**_  To think she could've had gotten this beautiful human being back in college...

"But it's Lookinglass. Who wouldn't be desperate?" he asked and Iona offered him a smile.

A flirtatious, knowing smile that is.

"You're right," she agreed, "but I wouldn't want Lookinglass to know how desperate I am."

"Really? And why is that?" He was flirting back and Iona's brain was gone into overdrive internal.

Why had she wasted her time with Carlisle? If she'd dated Andy in college, they'd probably be married by now. She would've been with him for seven years. Iona could picture it. Their house, their kids, their family vacations...

The universe was too cruel.

She smiled slyly and opened her mouth to answer.

"Oh, hey Iona. Never thought I'd see you here!"


	6. Date-crashing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to write:D

"Oh, hey Iona. Never thought I'd see you here!"

The words were not her own. Iona tilted her head to her right to find Bruce Wayne standing next to their table. A model-  _typical Bruce,_  she rolled her eyes internally- was at his side looking every bit as confused as she was feeling.

Iona took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her confusion quickly turned into hatred. Why? Because this man was responsible for making her leave a job which she was very, very happy with in an environment which she loved. Sure, her current one was good but still- it was the reason why he'd fired her. And she hated him for that.

She breathed out and replied, in a short, clipped voice to let him now how pissed she was, "Bruce."

He grinned, turning to the model. "Tania, this is Iona. Iona, Tania," he introduced them, as though her tone wasn't clear indication that she was less than pleased to meet him. Iona shook hands with the model before Bruce turned to Andy.

"And you must be Andy Rosenberg," he said.

Andy seemed pretty pleased to meet Bruce since he cheerfully greeted him and added, "I didn't know you knew Bruce Wayne, Iona."

"I don't," Iona informed him, "my friend used to work for him."

"You worked for Wayne Enterprises too, right?"

_Damn, he really is a reporter,_  Iona thought.

"Yea, IT."

"She was one of the best," Bruce added, motioning to a waiter in the distance to set up a table.

"I don't think it's allowed," Iona quickly said, sending him a significant look which mainly read:  _stay the fuck away from me and my date, you prat_  but Bruce clearly didn't get the message as he said,"It's cool. I own the restaurant."

Iona growled internally.

She had  _ **not**  _planned for this to happen.

The next hour was spent in idle small talk on Iona's part. Bruce, Andy and Tania-  _god, her presence annoyed Iona_ \- spoke about everything- the weather, politics, Gotham politics, business, the television industry with emphasis on the news industry since that was Andy's forte and then the modelling industry. From the way Tania kept speaking, Iona decided that she liked the sound of her voice. Which didn't make sense since nothing she said had any value- Tania was quite superficial.

But only Iona seemed to notice it.

Both men seemed to enjoy Tania's company. Andy hadn't said a word to her in the last thirty three minutes and Iona's mood had turned sour. It had started out so perfectly too! She was convinced that she'd be able to score another date with Andy by the end of the night but it seemed as though the model would be beating her to it. For his part, Bruce didn't seem too concerned that his date was flirting with Andy. In fact, he seemed to be pleased by it. He went as far as to encourage her and that was very strange but then-

Iona went very still for a moment as it occurred to her that Bruce was doing this on purpose. And that's when her mood went completely downhill. Iona was seething. She was far more angrier than she'd ever been in her life.  _How dare he!_  she thought.  _How dare he sabotage my date! Fucking ass hole- prick! AAAGH!_

She decided that she'd had enough and excused herself from the table. Nobody didn't even acknowledge her and Iona was sure her face was in a permanent scowl by now. She made her way to the ladies' room where- once she was sure that no one was around- locked herself into a stall and called the only person who could understand her dilemma. It was eight o'clock in Boston but Iona was sure that she'd be home. She got off work at five and usually put Baby Charlene to bed by seven.

_"Hey, you're back already?"_  Misha greeted her.

"No," Iona informed her, "I'm still at the restaurant and guess who crashed my date?"

_"Oh no, it's him isn't it?"_

"Yes."

_"No."_

"YES."

_"Carlisle crashed your date?"_

"What- _no!_ " Iona hissed. "Why would he do that?"

_"I dunno,"_  Misha agreed.

_"Oh god, you're so dense,"_  she heard Jack's voice in the distance.

_"What?"_  Misha turned to him and then to Iona, _"wait. I'm putting you on speaker."_

Iona nodded even though she couldn't see her and then Jack spoke a moment later,  _"Bruce Wayne."_

"Thank god someone guessed it or I would've banged my head against the wall or something."

_"Bruce?! What the hell is he doing?"_  Misha wanted to know.

"He's sabotaging my date," Iona informed her through gritted teeth because that's how annoyed she felt. "I don't know why."

_"Simple, he doesn't want you to date anyone,"_  Jack said.

"What?!"

_"Yeah, he likes her, doesn't he Misha?"_  he asked his wife.

_"Oh he does like you,"_  Misha agreed and Iona rolled her eyes.

"I don't care if he likes me or not," she made it clear, " _I_  don't like  _him_. He's a fucking ass hole. He fired me because he had a thing for you. He fired me during a  _recession_. I mean, I got a job but- it's the  _principle_. You don't fire people because you like their friend. That's immature and completely  _unprofessional_."

_"I completely stand by you,"_  Jack said.

_"Bruce is being unreasonable,"_  Misha agreed, _"who does shit like this? Tell me, what is he doing?"_

"Well, for starters, his stupid model date won't stop flirting with Andy and he's encouraging her."

_"What?"_  Misha seemed surprised. Jack was holding back his laughter in the background.

"Yes, he's distracted Andy completely. Andy hasn't talked to me in a full thirty seven minutes and he didn't notice me leave the table!"

_"That's pathetic! What kinda guy gets distracted from his own date?"_

"He does when there's a super hot model across from him."

_"Still, that's no excuse for ignoring you!"_  Misha argued.  _"I can't believe Bruce ruined it! You'd been looking forward to this date for the longest time!"_

"I know," Iona agreed with her, "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

_"No offence Iona,"_  Jack said,  _"but if the guy can't focus on you because there's a model in the room then he probably didn't deserve you."_

"I get that," she said, "but it was going so well. Damn Bruce Wayne. Fucking ass hole-  _he ruined my date!"_

The sound of the door opening alerted her of someone's entrance and Iona lowered her voice.

"I'll talk to you guys later, okay?" she said. Misha and Jack quickly bid her good bye and Iona hung up. She walked out of the stall to find Bruce Wayne in all his glory standing there.

"This is the ladies' room," she informed him curtly.

"I know," he replied simply, "I don't really have to follow the rules here and-"

"Yeah, whatever," she interrupted him as she walked past him, "if you excuse me, I have a date to get back to."

"Oh yeah," Bruce said as though he'd just remembered something, "Tania and Andy left a few minutes ago."

Iona whipped her head around. "They _what?"_  she shrieked.

"Yeah, I was getting some drinks when it happened."

"And you  _let them?_ "

"Well, what else could I do?"

She glared at him. "You could've stopped them," she bellowed, "he was my date. You let your stupid-"

"No need to get so worked up," he interrupted her. "It wouldn't have worked anyway. He's too full of himself."

Iona looked heavenwards before laughing humourlessly. "Who asked for your opinion?" she demanded. "I  _liked_  him. I don't care if it didn't work out. I was looking forward to this date, you ass hole. What gives you the right to make my decisions for me?"

"I was saving you the heartbreak," he informed her. "He wasn't the right guy for you. You deser-"

"And you think you're the right guy for me?" she asked him. " _You?_  You fucking fired me because you have a fucking crush on my fucking best friend. You didn't even have the decency to tell me that you can't stand to be near me because I remind you of the fucking past which you can't get over. You had your guards watch out for me so I wouldn't come anywhere near your office or they'd call the cops on me. You've treated me like  _shit_  and you have the  _audacity_  to question my life choices?! That's rich!"

Bruce looked pained and for once, Iona was satisfied.

_Serves him right!_  she thought.

"Iona, I-" he began to speak again but she stopped him.

"I don't want to hear a single word from you," she said before running out of the ladies' room, out of the restaurant- not caring that everyone was looking at her and that everyone had heard what she'd said to Bruce Wayne.

Because she'd been  _that_  loud.


	7. The Incident

Iona joined Lookinglass.

She cut off all contacts with Andy Rosenberg even though he'd called the very next day, apologizing for his behaviour. She'd picked up her phone the eleventh time he'd called her and let him have a piece of her mind.

She even talked to Misha and Jack- both of whom agreed wholeheartedly with her decision.

She continued to update her website. She was particularly nasty about Bruce on it. Her audience loved it and that was all.

The only person she didn't talk to was Bruce Wayne himself.

And he'd been blowing up her phone for the last two weeks, sending her text messages, voice messages and what not. But if there was one thing that Iona had inherited from her dad, it was her stubbornness.

And so she continued to ignore him.

She ignored him when he called her non-stop when she was on the subway even though she got weird looks from the other passengers. She ignored him when he called her during that one important meeting and chose to keep her phone on silent instead. She ignored him when he called her on her way back home from work each day. She ignored him until he stopped calling on Thursday evening but she had her doubts that he'd call her again because there'd been a Batman sighting so he was probably doing his job.

On Friday, he still hadn't called her and Iona was pleased.

She made a quick stop to a grocery store to pick out some stuff to make dinner only to decide that she was in the mood for take out and got a nice big bottle of red wine instead. She was making her way home when a man in a black mask stopped her.

 _"You!"_  he said to her, pointing a gun at her. "Hand over your wallet!"

Iona froze, raising both of her hands. "Hang on, wait-"

But the man didn't listen. He went on to grab her grocery bag and threw it on the ground, breaking the bottle in the process. Iona stared at the contents of the bottle spilling out. The man did so too but then-

"Your wallet!" he commanded her.

Iona took out her wallet from her bag which was no easy task since she was absolutely, positively  _shaking_. She'd heard of robberies- robberies were common in Gotham but she'd never gotten mugged herself. A thief with a gun was three times more likely to shoot than one who wasn't and simply armed with a bat or something. A nervous thief with a gun was ten times more likely to shoot than one who wasn't.

The man in front of her looked pretty panicked.

Iona did not like the odds.

"Hurry up!" he shouted at her.

She nodded, pulling out her wallet and giving it to him.

He went through it, voicing his displeasure very vocally. "Ten bucks?! Who carries ten bucks with them these days? And no credit card? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I- I was just getting some wine," Iona informed him.

The man looked very displeased. "Fucking bitch, you made me waste my time!"

"With all due respect,  _you_  wasted my wine," Iona couldn't stop herself.

_Big mistake._

The man charged at her. Iona closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact but it never came.

Instead, she heard a grunt, a groan and then the sound of someone falling.

Iona opened her eyes to find the man on the ground. Batman was standing over him. He'd taken his gun and flung it away.

Once he was sure the man was thoroughly overpowered (translation: he beat to the pulp until he was no longer conscious), Bruce stepped away from him and rushed towards Iona.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, genuine concern in his voice quite unlike the emotionless voice he usually did in the Bat suit.

"I- I...uhhh...I guess," Iona managed to replied.

It was only when he draped an arm around her that she realized that she was shaking.

"Are you sure?" he asked her once more and this time she nodded.

"I could take you to the hospital," he suggested but she declined.

"I want to go home," she said and he nodded, guiding her towards the Bat vehicle.

She briefly spoke to tell him her address and he took her there. They didn't say a word to each other during the ride. When they reached her apartment complex, they carefully made their way to her floor- Bruce had to make sure that no one saw but it was late so it proved to be of little consequence. Once inside, he gave her a glass of water which she accepted grateful.

It was only when she'd completely donned it that he spoke, "So, first time?"

Iona smiled, appreciating his attempt at humour. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now," she said, "I've heard of  _sooo_  many muggings so many times."

"True," he agreed, "but it's still a crime and no one should ever get used to a crime. It shouldn't happen."

Silence overtook them once more.

Iona looked down at her empty glass, thinking back to the last the conversation she'd had with him. She knew that he was still the same annoying Bruce Wayne underneath the garb but the Batman gear made him seem more mature. Almost as though he was a completely different person.

"Thanks," she finally said to him.

"It's the least I could do," he replied quickly.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"I'm sorry for ruining your date with Andy Rosenberg," he apologized.

Iona frowned slightly. "It's alright," she said, "you were right though. It wouldn't have worked out."

"I know," he agreed, "still, it didn't give me any right to make decisions for you."

"That you didn't," she agreed and then, "but thanks anyway. For looking out for me. Even though you need to work on your approach."

Bruce smiled at that. "Yeah, I should work on my tactics."

They talked for a while longer before Bruce excused himself. After promising to see Iona the next day, he took his leave and Iona waited to see the Bat vehicle disappear from her balcony before she went and ordered dinner for herself.

Or was it breakfast now?

It was two o'clock in the morning.


	8. Indifferent Opinions

True to his word, Bruce Wayne was at her door the next day at seven- thirty in the morning. To her credit, Iona was still very much asleep and woke up to a continuous loop of her door bell ringing.

Alarmed, she quickly rushed to the door and opened it to find Bruce in all his glory standing at her door step.

"Wha?" she managed to say, the previous night's events still distant in her sleep deprived mind.

"I promised to see you today," he said, inviting himself in.

Iona frowned, not being able to remember such a deal. " _You did?"_

"Yes, did you forget?"

And then she remembered it. "Oh yeah," she agreed, nodding at the same time, "you did."

"You look awfully tired," Bruce commented.

"Normal people look sleepy at seven in the morning," she stated.

"Seven- thirty."

"What?"

"It's seven- thirty," Bruce scoffed. Iona pushed him lightly.

"Same thing," she said.

"No, it's not," he countered and she rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair, further destroying the bun she'd quickly made the previous night.

"We have an appointment," Bruce said to her, changing the topic, "get ready."

"An appointment?" Iona raised a brow.

"Yeah, hurry."

Still confused as ever, she made her way to her bedroom to change. It was only when she'd brushed her teeth and was changing in front of her full length mirror that she bit back a scream. She looked into the mirror and, to her horror, saw that she wasn't wearing any trousers.

Well,  _shit_.

* * *

"And that's how I learnt Russian," Bruce told her before taking a sip from his Frap from Starbucks. Iona nodded in acknowledgement as she too took a sip from hers. They were on a ferry back from New York. Iona didn't even know that Gotham and New York were connected through a water body but they were and she felt highly idiotic for not knowing so. Bruce had taken her to New York for breakfast at this one fancy restaurant which he (also) owned. After that they'd gone to Times Square where Iona made it a point to act all touristy (much Bruce's embarrassment) and take photographs and the like. Next, they'd gone to see Lion King at the Broadway which was a surprise to Iona since she'd never told Bruce that she liked Lion King. While Bruce swore that he didn't know, Iona made a mental note to phone Misha Napier and ask her if she'd ever told Bruce that.

By the time they were back in Gotham, it was close to four o'clock. They hadn't had lunch so Bruce suggested this place he knew but Iona stopped him, saying that she knew a far better place than he did and so she took him to Freddie's BBQ, her favourite, hole- in- the- wall joint where, after introducing Bruce to Freddie, they were seated and treated to one of the best barbecue ribs in the world.

Next, Bruce took her to a fireworks show which was happening on that day only. They arrived at Cobblepot Park and settled down at a relatively isolated corner. Iona helped him with setting the picnic. Once they were done, they sat on the blanket and drank bottled iced tea which Bruce had gotten.

They talked about random things for a while- mostly their childhood and the things they did growing up. Iona told him about a similar picnic that she'd had with her mum when she was little and then the fireworks started.

"That's beautiful," Iona gushed.

"They say it's better than the fourth of July one," Bruce told her, "but then, this company isn't the one used then so you can't really compare them. It's different in its own way."

"Definitely," Iona agreed. "It's different."

They continued to watch it in silence. Somewhere during the show, they'd gotten closer and soon Iona was resting her head on his shoulder. Bruce decided that he rather liked that. Reluctantly, but he did.

When the show ended, Iona helped him clean up once more even though he protested.

"It'll only take a minute," she argued and he obliged.

When they were done, Bruce turned to Iona. She was standing close to him, as though waiting for something. Bruce leaned in, meaning to give her something.

"Iona," he said.

"Yes?"

"There's something I need to give to you."

She nodded, not saying a word, her eyes were on his lips. It occurred to Bruce that she might've wanted to kiss him but he decided that could wait. He couldn't wait for Iona's reaction when she saw what he had for her.

He gave her the envelope and she opened it, frowning. She pulled out the letter inside and read it. Her frown didn't go away. Neither did she look surprised or excited as he'd thought. Instead, her frown deepened. When she looked at him again, he knew that he'd done something very, very bad.

 _"You're **hiring**  me again?"_ she inquired.

"Errr... yes."

"What makes you think I to work for you?"

_"What?"_

"I've got a job at Lookinglass, Bruce. What were you thinking? That I'm going to leave  _that_  for you?"

"...yes?"

Iona glared at him. She said nothing for a moment, as though she was trying to calm herself. Then-

"Ah, fuck it," she said before pushing him.

Bruce staggered backwards in surprise.

"Who the  _fuck_  do you think you are?" she shrieked. "You think you can do all of...  _whatever_   _this is_  that you were doing and convince me to forgive you?  _You fired me Bruce!_  You disregarded everything and  _fired me!"_

"I know, I'm sorry-"

"The hell you are! Do you have any idea how har-"

"- but you got a job!"

"-It's not even about that," she sneered. "It's about you treating me like  **shit**. It's the  _principle_  of things, Bruce. You put me second to Misha and there was nothing between you two! But  _ **us**_ \- Bruce how could you?"

"I made a mistake, I'm trying to fix it."

 _"By doing this?"_  she gestured at the paper. "You're making me look like an idiot, Bruce. You can't seriously want  _this_."

"But I just want you back at Wayne Enterprises."

She shook her head. "I'm not coming back," she gave the letter and envelope back to him, "I'm afraid I never really got through to you." And with that she left, looking disappointed but not more disappointed than Bruce.

He was surprised, shocked, hurt, disappointed and confused all at the same time.

He stood rooted at his spot for a full ten minutes before calling Alfred.

He was...  _speechless_.


	9. Realization

For once he was speechless.

Bruce looked to Alfred who sighed. "Don't look at me Master Wayne," he said, "I warned you. That is not the way to a woman's heart.

"But I offered her the job back!" he exclaimed. "I promised that everything would be the way it was! Why is she-"

"That's the point," Alfred interfered, "everything is  _not_  the way it was, Master Wayne. Things have changed. No sane employer spends an entire day with his former employee only to offer them their job back."

"So you're saying  _I'm insane?"_  Bruce inquired.

Alfred shook his head. "No, I think your relationship with Miss Sterling violates the work relations clause."

That made Bruce pause. "The  _what?"_

"Work relationship clause," Alfred told him, "no two employees can be in a relationship. Causes unnecessary drama."

"It's against company policy to date?" Bruce was surprised.

"Yes," Alfred replied, "but that's not the point. Miss Sterling doesn't want things to be the way they were. And I get the feeling that you don't want that either."

"No," Bruce was quick to counter, "you're just reading too much..." He thought back to the last few weeks and realized how very, very wrong he was.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_"You need a date to the charity event," his personal assistant, Edward told him._

_Bruce rolled his eyes. "We talked about this Ed," he said, "no more dates."_

_"Yes but you need to take someone with you," he went on, "it doesn't have to be a **date**  date, it can be a friend."_

_Bruce looked heavenwards, thinking. Who could he call?_

_Misha wasn't around anymore._

_He couldn't take Alfred because he hated those events._

_There wasn't anyone that he could truly trust enough to-_

_Wait, Bruce paused._ _Now that he thought about it, there was **one**  person in his mind._

_Nah, she wouldn't, his conscious told him, she doesn't want to see your face and you want to take her out to a star studded charity event?_

_Bruce frowned. Take her out? He didn't want to take Iona out... did he? That didn't make any sense. It **shouldn't**  make any sense. He had decided to never see her again. He was done. So then why did he want to take Iona of all the people...?_

_More importantly, since when had he started to think of **her**  like  **that**? She wasn't even his type for fuck's sake!_

_"On second thought," he turned to Ed, "whatever happened to those two English models I met last week?"_

_"I'll see what I can do," Ed said, leaving the room._

_Bruce allowed himself to smile. Now, those two were his **type**._

_Not Iona._

_Yup, certainly not **her**._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_Bruce had forgotten her name. He'd met so many models in the past week from Paris, London, Cannes and Los Angeles that he'd lost count. All of them looked the same to him. Tall, thin, stunningly beautiful, yes, with a variety of lovely dark and blond hair but their company was rather... lacking._

_This one was no better. She was saying something about the Opera which was in town. Bruce had attended the show earlier and rather liked it. But for the life of him, he could not understand why they had to discuss in utmost detail the sin that was the main lead's voice. He was supposed to be a Suprano- according to the original script- but the actor chosen was an Alto. It distressed Tania- yes, that was her name!- very much. Never mind that his performance was well- that one issue bothered her. Bruce remembered reading that very thing in the papers. Critics were impressed by the actor's performance regardless of that issue. He really didn't see the point of their conversation._

_Bruce wanted to talk politics- real politics. Not the mainstream politics Tania liked talking about. He wanted to have a stimulating conversation with someone- not have someone agree with his views and make judgements based on a politically correct education system. Tania wasn't interested in talking about the hard realities of life where decisions were not always black and white. That was for the men- she'd told him that much- to talk about in their board room. At the moment, they were enjoying the lighter side of life. Bruce wondered why he'd asked her out in the first place._

_Oh yes, he reminded himself bitterly, she looked hot._

_Wonderful._

_What great judgement he had._

_As he stared out of the window, he spotted a red head in the crowd and for some reason, thought of Iona._

_Iona's hair was brighter- like fire, as she'd describe it. It went well with her eyes- deep blue as they were. Iona did not look one bit of the Hispanic blood that she possessed and was proud of, and she hated herself for that. She hated how she looked and he didn't understand why. Once she'd come close to telling him. Something about her father and how he wasn't around. She'd stopped abruptly during her explanation and Bruce, understanding that it was hard for her, didn't pressurize her to tell._

_He'd decided that they'd made progress with their relationship that day. They'd have lunch together. Iona would sit closer to him in the IT room. They'd hold hands while she worked on the latest security details._

_And then you fired her dipshit, he reminded himself. The restaurant came into view and they stepped out of the car._

_I wonder what she's up to right now, Bruce thought as they made their way to their table. I wonder if-_

_He stopped short as he spotted the subject of his thoughts sitting at a table. She looked... beautiful; her hair was done up in an elegant bun and she wore a black dress that matched her smoky eyes- eyes, which by the way, were looking dreamily at another man._

_Bruce felt a strange as he peered a bit to see who the man was. It was Andy Rosenberg, that awful late night show host._

_Iona didn't deserve him._

_Bruce was absolutely seething. Did she not know his reputation? What was wrong with her? Why was she-_

_His date looked to him. "Something wrong?"_

_"I've spotted an old friend," he said, "mind if we have dinner with them?"_

_"No, not all," she responded and Bruce made his way to the table._

_"Oh, hey Iona!" he exclaimed, a plan formulating in his head to prevent Iona from seeing the bastard ever again._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bruce turned to Alfred. "How long have you known?" he asked him.

"Since the day she found out about your Bat problem," he answered.

"But I wasn't even-"

"Ah but that's the thing about feelings Master Wayne," he explained, "we don't even know that they're there but they are. We realize their presence much, much later."

Bruce took a deep breath. "So what do I do Alfred?" he asked.

"Give her some space," he said, "besides you have more pressing issues to deal with."

"What?"

Alfred showed the latest post from his hate blog.

**_'BRUCE WAYNE- Matchmaker or Date-ditcher?'_ **

Bruce took the tablet from Alfred and quickly read the post. There was a picture of him, Tania and Rosenberg having dinner at the restaurant. By the looks of it, Bruce was trying to get Tania and Rosenberg to leave. Another picture followed showing Wayne arrive with Tania and another showed him leave the table. Tania and Rosenberg didn't even notice him gone.

The post called into question what Bruce was up to. Was he really that much of an ass hole that he could just ditch someone whenever he liked? It speculated why he left the table, why he was so eager to leave the table and let Rosenberg make off with his date.

 _"It seems like some sick rich people tradition,"_  the post said,  _"if you don't like your date, you can pass her over to some other rich- albeit less rich than you- man as though she's a piece of meat."_

Bruce was livid. He began typing a response to the post but then stopped. All he'd done since this began was to whine. He'd even done an interview where he'd called out the blog. His PR team had obviously failed in this case and he was beginning to look like a fool. It was time to deal with this more maturely.

He turned to Alfred. "I'm filing a lawsuit."


	10. The Truth of The Matter

"I want every single article that's bashed me on the floor for dissection," Bruce instructed his lawyers, "I want every single word, suggestion, implication to be brought up and  _explicitly_  mentioned. I'm gonna teach this fuck the cost of going against me."

"Of course Mr Wayne," one of them said, "we've got it all here." He pointed at a briefcase that was laid on the table in front of them and Bruce allowed himself to relax.

He had filed for a lawsuit against the website, ihatebrucewayne last week and today was the trial. Bruce and his team were more than ready. The only defence which his opponent had was the First Amendment- something which his lawyers had managed to walk around. Today, they'd destroy the creator.

Bruce looked to the defender's side. There was only one person- a lawyer sitting there. He smiled smugly at that. His anonymous hater was nowhere in sight.

That was good.

That meant that he was too scared to face in court.

Bruce was the one in power here.

He could write all kinds of bullshit about him but here, in front of the law, his lies were nothing. Bruce was about to obliterate him and he was too afraid to take it like a man.

It was a clear victory for him.

The judge wouldn't have to hear some sob story about being a poor pap member who needed money to support his family- his lawyers had imagined that that would be the owner's only argument- that he needed to do something quick to feed himself and his family and Bruce Wayne, with the power and wealth he commanded, was an easy topic. The judge would have gotten a bit soft and the jury might have pitied him.

But that wouldn't happen because he wasn't here.

Bruce smiled. He didn't feel anything for the man. What he did was cruel; Bruce was just returning the favour.

The judge entered the room and the trial started.

Bruce's people went first.

The judge listened as did Bruce and he was pleased to see that his lawyers had followed his instructions to the core. Every single attack, implication and word spoken against him was called into question.

When it was the defendant's turn, the judge asked, "And is the defendant here?"

The closing of a door alerted them of someone's arrival. Bruce looked at his lawyers who looked surprised that he'd even showed up at all. Bruce turned around to look at his opponent, a smirk ready on his face to let him know that he'd won an-

Bruce's smile fell.

His eyes widened.

He abruptly stood up from his seat, his lawyers following him.

At the door stood Iona Sterling, looking positively out of breath. "Sorry I'm late," she said, walking down the aisle towards her seat. Bruce continued staring at her, dumbfounded until the judge asked to resume court.

"No," he said to the judge.

"What?"

"I'm out," he told him. "I'm sorry. I'm taking it back."

His lawyers were shocked. "But-"

"I said I'm done," he said, leaving his seat. "I'm taking back the lawsuit."

He walked over to Iona who looked just about as confused as he felt. "Come."

"Where?"

"You know where. We're settling this out of court," he stated, "I can't do this to you."

"But you  _did_  do this to me."

He leaned closer. "Don't make this any harder for me," he said, holding out his hand. Iona looked at him for a moment before turning to her lawyer. "I guess I'll talk to him?!"

The lawyer nodded and Iona took his hand.

Bruce didn't wait another moment. He pulled her out of the courtroom, not caring that she was wearing heels and Iona sucked at walking in those. He didn't say a word to her nor did he pay any attention to her as she complained about him walking too first. It was only when they were out of the court and in the little courtyard that was made for the public, when he turned to her.

"How could you do this to me?" he inquired angrily. "Hmm... how could you, Iona?"

Iona looked less than guilty.  _"How could I?_  What about yourself?" she quipped.

"I fired you," he stated, "but then I even offered you your job back! You almost single handedly ruined my image!"

"Your image was already ruined Bruce," she replied, "I just stated the obvious. To show you what people really think about you."

"They never thought about me this way before your website."

"They always did," she countered, "my website just provided them with the platform to freely say what they wanted to say about you."

Bruce said nothing to that, instead he ran a hand through his hair and began pacing.

"Look, I'm sorry if it hurts your feelings," Iona told him, "but that's what people think about you. Everyone's done with this stupid playboy image you've got going. They were talking shit about you before as well but you didn't know then because your PR team glossed over it. People were annoyed from the beginning. Don't blame me. Wouldn't you rather know what they really thought about you than get some filtered shit from the press?"

He growled out loud.

"You could have told me," he said.

"You didn't listen," she countered.

He took a deep breath. "See that's your problem," he went on, "you always have a counter to what I say."

"You want that counter," she responded, "that's why you can't let go of me."

"I just want things to be the way they were," he admitted in defeat, "before I made the horrible mistake of firing you."

"Do you really?" she asked him, taking a step towards him.

"Yes," he replied, cupping her cheeks with his hands. "I do. But I don't want you to leave me ever again."

Iona nodded and he kissed her right there. Out in public. With the press not four feet away from them because, yes, the paparazzi was there to see the outcome of the lawsuit. This wasn't what they'd expected but they quickly clicked at the rare public display of affection (even though he was seen around with quite a few models) that Bruce did.

Iona giggled once they pulled apart.

"I wasn't expecting actual cameras to go off when that happened," she exclaimed and Bruce smiled, taking her hand in his.

"Wait till you attend a red carpet," he said to her. They walked towards Bruce's car where Alfred was waiting.

"Turned out just fine, didn't it?" he asked once they were seated.

"Oh yes, it we-" Bruce began answering but Alfred interrupted him.

"I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to her."

Bruce frowned. "Wait, you  _knew_  it was her the whole time?"

"Of course, I did," he responded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell."

Iona giggled and Bruce turned to her. "Who else was in on it?"

"Well, there was Alfred, Lucius, Misha and Jack," she answered.

"What?"

"Yup."

"Are you telling me that each one of them had a score to settle with me?"

"They did."

Bruce looked surprised. "Guess this website wasn't a bad idea after all," he commented, "now I know who my real friends are."

Alfred laughed and Iona shook her head. "Boo hoo you," she quipped and Bruce pulled her into yet another kiss.


End file.
